5 Times Mycroft Stood Up For Sherlock
by What's'SupWitChu
Summary: ...And the one time Sherlock stood up for Mycroft. Connected stories about how the Holmes brothers' relationship develops over the years. Brotherly love! Thanks to A Genius Says for the prompt :)
1. Against Their Nanny

_**A/N: Hello chaps! I know I have another story on the go, but I just couldn't wait to share this with you! I would like to thank ****A genius says ****for giving me the prompt for this story. I hope to explore the development in Sherlock and Mycroft's relationship, so expect lots of brotherly love! I hope you enjoy, and I apologise for any issues in characterisation. **_

_**If you have time to review then I would love to hear from you :) xx**_

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**Against Their Nanny**

When most young children received a new sibling they would get overly excited and want to play with them instantly, not understanding that the tiny beings needed some time to develop first. Mycroft Holmes was not most children, and so when his baby brother Sherlock came along it was Mycroft's curiosity over the tiny boy which meant he did not mind just standing and watching his brother rather than trying to interact with him too much.

Mycroft had never met a human so small before, and so he fondly observed the way Sherlock grew to babble to himself, to eventually sit up and then crawl. Mycroft would spend many an evening in his brother's nursery, sat in the chair beside Sherlock's crib, taking notes as the baby giggled at getting his own limbs in a tangled mess. He only ever smiled or giggled when Mycroft was around, and the older boy wondered why.

"It's because he loves his big brother" Mummy would tell him with a smile whenever Mycroft asked about it.

Love was a complicated subject, Mycroft found. He thought love was only reserved for partners like Mummy and Daddy, but he found he did indeed love Sherlock, and he was glad to know Sherlock loved him.

It was true Mycroft did spend more time with Sherlock than most. Daddy was always working away or in his office, and Mummy herself was usually at work or with friends. That typically left Sherlock with the nanny, Elizabeth, for most of the day until Mycroft got home from school.

Elizabeth was a miserable old creature and Mycroft did not at all know what Mummy saw in her, but Sherlock always seemed happy to get away from her when Mycroft finally came home. The older boy would usually go into the nursery to find Elizabeth rocking Sherlock and trying to get him to sleep, but he would be fighting and she would verbally scold him. Mycroft did not like the feeling that gave him, and after doing some research he found said feeling was the need to protect his baby brother from people he clearly did not like.

As soon as Sherlock saw Mycroft he would stop fussing and instead reach out his tiny arms, gripping his hands open and closed and whimper slightly to show he would rather be held by Mycroft. Elizabeth would just sigh, clearly not caring, and dump Sherlock in Mycroft's arms on her way out. Again, it was lucky Mycroft was no regular seven year old, and so knew fairly well how to treat his little brother after extensive research, but it was still very irresponsible for Elizabeth to leave them.

When Sherlock was safely in Mycroft's arms, he would gurgle happily to himself and rest his head on his brother's chest, his little hands gripping Mycroft's shirt. It made Mycroft feel warm inside…happiness, he thought it was. He had been so utterly lonely before Sherlock was born, and now he was going to teach his brother everything he knew so he could finally have someone to talk to with peer intellect, and saw the world how he did.

One afternoon when Sherlock was 15 months old and Mycroft just turned 8, the older brother arrived home from school to find Elizabeth in the nursery talking to one of the maids rather heatedly about Sherlock, who sat blissfully unaware in his playpen stacking his toy blocks.

"There is something wrong with that child" Elizabeth said, and the maid tried her best to ignore her and carry on cleaning. "Surely he should be walking by now, her barely even crawls! And he should certainly be beginning to speak, but he never much as utters a sound! I'm telling you, he's not right"

Mycroft's eyes widened as he listened in from the door outside; how dare she insult his brother like that, he was just a baby! It was true, Sherlock barely cried – which Mycroft could safely say was a good thing - and he did not make much noise when anyone else was around, but he always made happy babbling noises when he was with Mycroft. Clearly only he knew the real Sherlock even at this tender age. It was also true he had not started to walk yet, but all babies developed at different rates – Mycroft had studied it extensively.

The maid just hummed along uncaringly to Elizabeth's cruel accusations and then turned to leave. Mycroft quickly ducked out of sight and waited until she had gone before going into the room and marching right up to Elizabeth who had taken to slouching in the reading chair and lazily flicking through a magazine.

"There is nothing wrong with Sherlock!" Mycroft said adamantly as he stomped his foot on the ground. "He's just taking his time to…"

"Were you eavesdropping?" Elizabeth asked angrily as she folded the magazine away and stood up to her full height, but Mycroft was not scared. "I shall tell your mother!"

"And I shall tell her what you said about Sherlock" Mycroft retaliated, folding his arms across his chest to express his obstinacy.

"Oh, and who do you think she'll believe?" Elizabeth said snidely as she folded her own arms "The loyal woman who has worked for since before you were born, or a seven year old prone to telling lies"

"I'm her son!" Mycroft said; surely Mummy would choose to believe him…

"You're too mouthy for your own good, boy!" Elizabeth reprimanded "And the fact you are her son, I'm afraid, doesn't really count in this world. Adults listen to adults, not children who always think they know best"

"I am not most children" Mycroft retorted with narrowed eyes.

Elizabeth smirked "Neither is your brother, probably why he's so slow…"

"Don't talk about him like that, he's baby!" Mycroft continued to defend his brother, who at this point was sat watching them with wide unblinking eyes.

"Oh, I've had enough of this" Elizabeth said waving her hand dismissively. "You two are really not worth the trouble, ungrateful brat! I'll be having words with your mother" and with that, she stormed out the room.

Mycroft immediately hurried over to Sherlock who was starting to look upset by the loud shouting. As soon as the older Holmes picked his brother up out of the pen Sherlock nuzzled into his neck and Mycroft could feel the hot tears.

"Hey, it's alright" Mycroft soothed as he rubbed Sherlock's back and rocked him a little. "I won't shout anymore, I promise"

Sherlock sniffed and looked up at his brother, rubbing his eyes. Mycroft felt sad that Elizabeth could even think such horrible thoughts about his innocent little brother.

"Don't listen to anything that old bat says Sherlock, I already know you're special, but in a good way" Mycroft said reassuringly. "We'll just have to prove her wrong!" he said with an enthusiastic smile and Sherlock giggled – he liked it when Mycroft smiled.

"I'm going to teach you to walk" Mycroft said seriously as he placed Sherlock on the floor "Walk, see, like this" he said taking some purposeful strides up and down the room and Sherlock's eyes followed him in what appeared to be concentration. "Think you can do that?" Mycroft asked and Sherlock just blinked blankly. Mycroft sighed but still had a small smile on his face; this was going to be hard work.

* * *

"Okay, this time for sure" Mycroft said reassuringly as he placed Sherlock's tiny hands on the seat of the chair so he could steady himself on his still wobbly legs.

They had spent the last three days working on Sherlock's walking. It was the school holidays so Mycroft was able to spend all day with Sherlock, and also luckily Mummy and Daddy were away so Elizabeth had not had chance to talk to them yet.

Mycroft had started by hoisting Sherlock up onto his feet and slowly walking his little brother around the room whilst holding onto his chubby little hands. Sherlock was very dubious at first, his legs would eventually wobble and he would stumble, but Mycroft was always there to catch him we he fell. Eventually, Sherlock grew more confident after watching Mycroft and gurgled happily to himself when walking around with Mycroft's help.

However then, Mycroft had tried to get Sherlock to walk on his own and the little boy had hated it. The first time Mycroft let go of him Sherlock had been so scared he had starting crying right away and Mycroft had to cuddle him and 'hush' him for a good five minutes.

"It's alright, Sherlock" he had said whilst running his hand through the little boy's curls. "I won't let you fall. I'll never let you fall, not really, I promise" if only Mycroft had known the prominence of those words in the years to come.

"Come on, I know you can do this" Mycroft had said encouragingly as he once again stood up, still holding Sherlock's hands.

That was when he'd taken Sherlock over to the chair to prop him up and then Mycroft let go once more. Sherlock craned his head around as Mycroft moved away, and the older Holmes could see the tears once again welling in his little brother's eyes.

"Ssh, it's alright, I'm right here" Mycroft said as he knelt down just a few feet away and waited with open arms. Sherlock whimpered, but Mycroft knew he was so close. "Come on, come to me Sherlock, I know you can" he said, opening his arm's wide and beckoning the little boy forward with his hands.

Sherlock very cautiously turned all the way around, letting go of the chair and sticking his arms out for balance. He wobbled a little, and Mycroft got ready to lunge forward and catch him, but Sherlock recovered himself and placed his first foot forward.

Mycroft grinned widely "Yes! That's it Sherlock, I'm right here" he continued to encourage.

Sherlock moved his other foot forward; his first step on his own. Mycroft smiled proudly. Very carefully, and systematically, Sherlock slowly managed to move his way forward. The closer he got to Mycroft, the more Sherlock smiled and giggled to himself. Mycroft started laughing too, seeing how pleased his brother was with himself.

Eventually, Sherlock took the last big step and stumbled into Mycroft's arms. Mycroft picked Sherlock up and spun him around excitedly.

"You did it, you did it, Sherlock!" Mycroft said happily "I knew you could do it, I'm so proud of you" he hugged his brother close and Sherlock nuzzled into Mycroft's neck once more. "Just wait until we show Mummy, and rub it Elizabeth's stupid face" Mycroft added excitedly. "Come on, let's keep practising"

* * *

It was two days later – Sherlock was exceling by then, so Mycroft knew he was certainly a Holmes – when Violet and Siger Holmes finally arrived home. Unfortunately for the boys, Elizabeth managed to get to Violet first and told her about her 'trouble' with Mycroft the week before. Violet went to the nursery ready to give her son a stern talking to, Elizabeth in tow, but Violet stopped when she opened by the door, taken by surprise at the scene before her.

Mycroft was knelt down at one side of the room, arms wide opened, whilst Sherlock was making his way towards his older brother – albeit on wobbly legs – but he was actually taking some confident steps.

"Oh, darling!" Violet cried happily as she went into the room and swept Sherlock up into her arms "You can walk, oh I'm so pleased, well done!" She planted a wet kiss on Sherlock's cheek ignoring the fact he was already fussing to be put down.

"I taught him, Mummy" Mycroft said proudly as he looked smugly at Elizabeth who was stood in the door, eyes wide in shock. "He's getting really good"

"Well done, Myc" Violet said as she knelt down with Sherlock to hug her other son too – apparently any chance of a scolding had gone out of the window, much to Elizabeth's dismay.

Sherlock was still squirming and fussing in his mother's grasp until he suddenly cried out "Mycof!"

Violet and Mycroft both looked at the little boy, surprised.

"What did you say?" Mycroft asked "Did you say my name?"

Sherlock was holding his arms out, opening and closing his hands in Mycroft's direction "Mycof!" he said again insistently.

Violet wordlessly handed Sherlock to his brother and the little boy settled, resting his head against Mycroft's chest and sighing, a content smile on his face.

"His first word" Mycroft said "Did you hear that, Mummy? Sherlock's first word was my name!"

"Yes darling, I heard" Violet said proudly as she wiped a tear from her eye "You're a very good big brother Mycroft, and Sherlock clearly loves you very much"

"I love him too" Mycroft said with a smile as he looked at the little boy now asleep on his shoulder. He then looked over at Elizabeth who had been frozen in the door speechless the whole time. "My brother is a genius" he said with a smug look at her.

Elizabeth closed her gaping mouth and promptly stomped away – embarrassed by a seven year old and his baby brother! Mycroft stuck his tongue out at her back as she left – it was okay to be childish sometimes he supposed.


	2. Against The Bullies

_**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and for reading, favouriting and following, it means a lot to me :) Here is the second story and I hope you find it as fluffy as the last one XD There is some OOCness I think so sorry about that.**_

_**By the way, I would love it if you guys had any prompts for more Mycroft and Sherlock stories that you tell me about them, i'm always looking for ideas!**_

_**I would love to see what you think, so leave a review if you'd like :) xx**_

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**Against The Bullies**

"Look Mycroft, look!" Sherlock called excitedly as he hurried towards his brother.

"Yes, Sherlock" Mycroft replied distantly.

He did not look up from the book he was sat reading as he leant against the old oak tree in the corner of the park. Sherlock bounded over, leaves and bits of twig sticking out of his hair and his knees covered in mud. In his hands, gripped tightly but with great care, was a bird's nest containing three blue eggs.

"I found it in the bushes over there" Sherlock said happily as he knelt down in front of Mycroft and presented the nest like a prize. He was annoyed that Mycroft seemed uninterested though as the older by just sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh Sherlock, you're a mess!" the older boy lightly scolded. He would be the one in trouble with Mummy is the younger boy returned home like that. "Come here" he said and Sherlock obediently wriggled over, but less than gently making a point of throwing his back into Mycroft's chest so the older boy let out a huff of discomfort.

"I wonder what kind of bird it is" Sherlock said curiously as he raised the nest above his head and twirled it around for further observation.

"Robins, of course" Mycroft said absentmindedly as he worked on untangling the bits of nature from Sherlock's hair.

"Of course" Sherlock repeated with a frown and Mycroft allowed himself a small smile. "Can I keep them?" the seven year old asked.

"No, it would not be right" Mycroft said sternly and Sherlock pouted. "They need to stay here with their mother or else they will not survive" the older Holmes explained.

"But…" Sherlock started to protest.

"Sherlock" Mycroft said sternly as he raised an eyebrow and the little boy turned to look at him glumly "You have to put it back"

"Fine" Sherlock sulked as he trudged away.

Mycroft allowed himself a small chuckle of triumph before going back to his book and blocking out the world once more.

Meanwhile, Sherlock went back to the bushes where he found the nest and placed it back in its constructed hold.

"My brother is so mean" he mumbled to the eggs "I could have taken good care of you, I know I could have"

"Hey look, he even talks to himself" a voice behind Sherlock cackled and the young boy whipped around to face Ethan Porter, a boy in the year above Sherlock– a boy who teased Sherlock constantly. He was of quite a big build for a nine year old, and much taller than Sherlock.

"I wasn't talking to myself, I was talking to the birds" Sherlock mumbled as he stood up and brushed himself down.

"Oh, you mean like the ones in cartoons which tweet around your head to prove you've gone insane" Porter teased and the couple of goons who usually followed him around like dumb dogs laughed hysterically.

Sherlock started to get angry. He was quite prone to temper outbursts and Mycroft had recently been trying to teach him ways to keep it under control because '_a temper will only bring you more bother in life.' _But all that was forgotten now as Sherlock looked into the eyes of the boy who brought him nothing but torment, laughing at him like the Holmes boy was inferior, when Sherlock knew he was anything but.

"Maybe you should stop watching cartoons and read a book every once in a while" Sherlock bit back at his clenched his hands into tiny fists "maybe then you'd actually be educated and you wouldn't be such an intolerable imbecile!"

Porter frowned "What's an int…intol…" he gave up and decided to give Sherlock a cold glare instead.

Sherlock just scoffed and folded his arms across his chest; a move he had mastered from Mycroft when watching his older brother have to deal with people of similar incompetence.

"I think you just proved me right" Sherlock said smugly.

"He's calling you stupid, mate" one of Porter's dunderheads informed him – well, maybe he was not as much of a dunderhead as Porter.

"Well the only reason you know such big words is cos you're a…" Porter stuttered "You're a…a _freak_!"

That was it, the buzz word which made 7 year old Sherlock regress into his metaphorical shell. Ever since he could remember, other children and even adults – like their stupid nanny – had accused him of being a freak. Just because he was intelligent beyond his years did not mean he was not human, could not comprehend certain notions. He was just 7 years old after all, how could anyone write someone off as 'not right' at 7, and just like most boys Sherlock's age name calling could hurt.

Mycroft always told Sherlock he was extraordinary, but in a very positive way. He said that he was proud of Sherlock for taking on all sorts of information at such a young age – although Mycroft did no always approve of his brother's methods, like messy experimenting. Sherlock had learnt a lot of what he knew from Mycroft, and he did not think his older brother was a freak, he thought Mycroft was brilliant – an annoying arse sometimes, but brilliant. Mycroft had never called him a freak.

"I…I am not a freak" Sherlock squeaked, all confidence leaving him.

He tried to remember what Mycroft had told him about keeping level headed in these situations and not let physical brutality become an obstacle, but Sherlock could already see the way that Porter's fists opened and closed, just waiting for an excuse to hit the Holmes boy.

"Yes you are" Porter pushed "You know things you shouldn't, you_ do_ things you shouldn't. No wonder you don't have any friends. I mean, who would want you? Lonely. Little. Freak" and with that, he stepped forward and forcefully shoved Sherlock to the ground.

Sherlock could feel the hatred burning in his eyes, but really he supposed it was just the sting of the tears he was deeply trying to supress. Sherlock did not think he was lonely because he had Mycroft, but he also did not like having the fact no one wanted to be with him at school rubbed in his face. _I am not a freak; I am not a freak _he chanted to himself as he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Aww, is baby Sherlock gunna cry?" Porter scoffed "Even your name is freaky." He leant over Sherlock, looking like he was finally going to hit the smaller boy, but he was suddenly pulled back when a hand landed on his shoulder firmly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" Mycroft spoke calmly as he removed his hand and went to help Sherlock up instead. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, not conveying the true extent of his concern. Sherlock nodded and then clung tightly to his brother's side as Mycroft turned to face Porter and his friends again.

"You can't do that! You can't just get your brother to fight for you!" Porter argued.

"No one is fighting anyone" Mycroft said in his usual calm composure as he folded his arms across his chest – only Sherlock knew just how dangerous Mycroft's calmness could be. "I simply request that you apologise to Sherlock for any words and actions intended to harm him"

"Why? He started it!" Porter argued.

"No I didn't, I was minding my own business and then you called me insane!" Sherlock retorted, though he still held onto the back of Mycroft's shirt.

"It's alright, Sherlock" Mycroft said as he placed a reassuring hand on his brother's back. "I'll handle this…" he turned his attention back to Porter "and do you think it fair to pick on someone who is two years younger than you and nowhere near your physical stature?"

"Well…you're way older than me!" Porter responded in a defensive manner he seemed determined to maintain.

"Yes but I'm not picking on you" Mycroft pointed out "We're just having a conversation, or at least, I'm endeavouring to, and I asked you a perfectly valid and general question"

Sherlock thought Mycroft had the patience of a saint with this boy – he knew how much his brother just _hated_ dealing with extremely slow people.

Porter looked around for a moment as if he did not know what to say, but then something obviously caught his eye and he turned back to Mycroft with a smirk and a glint of malice in his eyes.

"Well, if we're bringing big brothers into this, here comes mine now" he said nodding towards the bulk of a boy – 16, Mycroft would say – heading towards them along with a slightly smaller friend. Why did idiots like them need followers to feed their big egos?

"Oi, runt!" the boy aimed his insult at Mycroft "I saw you grab my little brother just then…"

"I did not grab him" Mycroft said, still oozing serenity "And I was simply stopping him from assaulting_ my_ little brother"

The older Porter brother looked around at Sherlock who was nervously hidden in Mycroft's side. Right now Sherlock was not sure if Mycroft was being brave by standing up for him or just stupid, but he knew Mycroft must know perfectly well what he was doing, it would be so unlike him to just dive in without a calculated outcome.

Ryan Porter smirked "So, you must be the little freak Ethan tells me so much about" he sneered and Sherlock buried his face into Mycroft's side as he tried to block everything out – he so hated that word!

And that was when the first crack in Mycroft's composure began to surface. He knew how much Sherlock detested being called that, and Mycroft himself hated the noun and everything it implied. His brother was most certainly_ not_ a… he would not even think of it. Mycroft himself had had enough encounters involving that word, and although it did not seem to bother him when aimed at him specifically, it did bother him when Sherlock came home from school in tears because he had been called it incessantly.

"You know what; I think you've got bigger problems to worry about right now than our brothers' supposed misdeeds" Mycroft snapped "Those flowers which you just gave your girlfriend aren't going to fix the problems you're having, you're clearly a cheapskate anyway because you didn't even buy them for her. I'd like to tell you it's something you've done but really she's having an affair with your friend over here" he nodded to Ryan's associate who looked away nervously.

"And I suggest you treat your brother better, you're supposed to be role model after all and teaching him about getting into fights is not the answer."

By the end of Mycroft's deductions there was an eerie silence. Mycroft did not even look smug, simply raised an eyebrow at Ryan as if waiting for some witty retort, Ryan was agape and looked like he was ready to hit Mycroft, whilst Ethan just looked dumbfounded. Sherlock was looking up at his brother in great admiration and awe – he would be able to make deductions like that someday.

After Ryan did not respond, Mycroft spoke up again. "I suggest you and your friend have whatever kind of fight you're about to have and then pop along to see your girlfriend. So, we shall leave, good day" he said with a nod. "Come along, Sherlock" he said sticking out his hand which the younger Holmes gripped tightly.

As they began to walk away, there was already the sound of raised voices as Ryan started yelling at his friend who simply cowered in fear. Sherlock could not fight his inner seven year old when he saw Ethan wordlessly staring after them and so he stuck his tongue out in triumph.

"Don't stoop to their level, Sherlock" Mycroft lightly reprimanded his brother, though there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

"How did you do that?" Sherlock asked excitedly as he skipped ahead of his brother "How did you know all those things!?"

"You tell me" Mycroft challenged.

"Well, the flowers were obvious because he had dirt on his fingers still from picking him and some pollen on his jeans, so he didn't by them for his girlfriend" Sherlock stated.

"Good" Mycroft nodded with approval.

"And…it was obvious she was having the affair with the friend because as soon as you mentioned it he got very nervous, his mannerisms were closed and he wanted to go unnoticed"

"Excellent" Mycroft smiled. "He had a girlfriend because there was still the faint lipstick stain on his cheek – some boys were makeup I suppose, but balance of probability – now, she kissed him on the cheek, not the lips, suggesting trouble in paradise and she failed to tell him about the dirt mark he had on his nose, so clearly she doesn't care for him greatly at this moment in time."

"Plus, he clearly does not treat his brother well, why else would the younger one want to try and pick on people he thinks are inferior to him if he himself is not made to feel inferior by someone else. He wants some kind of power in his life"

"Wow" Sherlock breathed "I hope I'm as good as you one day, Mycroft" Sherlock beamed as he took his brother's hand once more.

"Mm, maybe not _as_ good" Mycroft teased "but I shall teach you all I can"

"So, you don't think me being smart makes me a freak then?" Sherlock asked a little timidly.

"Of course not" Mycroft said reassuringly "You have a brilliant mind, Sherlock; I've always told you that"

"And you'll always be there if I need help with bullies?" Sherlock requested.

"Always" Mycroft replied sincerely.

The brother's walked home hand in hand, Mycroft occasionally lifting Sherlock so he felt like he was gliding across the pavement. It made the little boy giggle and it was such a sweet sound to Mycroft. His brother was not a freak for being interested in birds' nests, but neither was he a normal little boy. He was something else entirely, something special, and that was a very wonderful thing.


	3. Against The Teacher

**A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry it's been a while, I have exams coming up so revision has been pretty time consuming. I hope you enjoy this next story :) I am almost certain there is OOCness here, so I apologise for that. **

**P.S. I'm already thinking about it and I'm struggling to come up with a feasible scenario where Sherlock would feel the need to stand up for Mycroft, and Mycroft wouldn't know how to defend himself. So, if you have any ideas I would really appreciate them! **

**If you have any time I would love to hear what you think :)**

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**Against The Teacher**

It was the Easter holidays in Mycroft's final year at university so he decided to give his family a surprise visit – well, he had learnt from past experience that to not forewarn of his arrival was the only way not to get Mummy in a fuss. He had not been home since just after Christmas, and although he spoke to his parents on the phone regularly he had had little contact with Sherlock.

Ever since Mycroft left for university three years ago, Sherlock had started to resent him a lot more, and their relationship had never been perfect in the first place. The then 11 year old boy had accused Mycroft of being selfish for leaving him with a 'bunch of idiots' who did not understand him. Mycroft had said Sherlock was being ridiculous and overdramatic as always. Sherlock had said fine, he did not really need Mycroft anyway. How wrong he had been.

And so over the past few years the Holmes brothers had talked very little and Mycroft wondered if they now had any kind of relationship at all. Although, he supposed that might be for the best. He could not look after Sherlock for the rest of their lives, and his younger brother must learn that independence is a key trait to have in this world. Relying on someone will only make you feel let down and you will probably get hurt – Mycroft had learnt this in his own way over the years.

When he arrived home, Mycroft entered the house quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful setting. A small smile tugged at his lips – he did like being home in his own room, not having to share with those loud obnoxious boys back at university. However, he was disgruntled to find that the normally tranquil and homely place was tainted by the desperate whispers of his parents – _clearly discussing something important, whispering so Sherlock can't hear, so it's about him then._

Mycroft slowly made his way down the hall to his father's study where the voices where flowing from – he listened in curiously.

"_I'm just so worried about him" _Violet Holmes said with a tone if despair _"I'm not sure he even has any friends, Siger! A boy Sherlock's age needs other people around him to be social with."_

"_I know" _Father Holmes replied seeming a lot calmer than his wife. _"But Sherlock seems happy…"_

"_Is he?"_ Violet questioned _"You heard what his teacher said. He's disruptive in class, he insults people, he refuses to join in with group activities…and now he's got himself suspended for experimenting on the frogs in the science lab! I just don't know what to do"_

"_Well, Mycroft was the same at first, remember?" _ Siger replied, and outside the door said son's ears pricked up at the mention of his name. _"Well, he has always been polite but he always kept himself to himself. Now he gets on very well at university and interacts with other people. I'm sure Sherlock will get there in his own time"_

Mycroft decided this would be the right moment to interject, and so gently opened the door and cleared his throat.

"Oh, darling!" Violet exclaimed happily as she immediately wrapped her son up in a bone crushing hug "What a lovely surprise!"

"Yes, I've missed you" Mycroft felt obliged to say – that's what people normally say when they have been away for a while.

"We've missed you too, son" Siger said with a smile, which his son returned.

"What's all this about Sherlock?" Mycroft decided to ask and get it out of the way.

His parents shared a look before Violet sighed. "He's just having a bit of trouble at school, nothing for you to worry about, dear"

_But I do worry_ Mycroft wanted to say, however it would not be in his nature and he knew Sherlock would not appreciate it anyway.

"We had a meeting with Sherlock's teacher earlier and he told us about some problems Sherlock was having" Siger said.

"Oh" Mycroft replied, hoping to convey he would not take the matter further, but secretly thinking otherwise. "Where is my brother dearest?" he asked with fake kindness.

"Don't be cheeky" Violet lightly scolded him "He's in his room, where he always is these days. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you though"

"Mm, quite" Mycroft said sarcastically and his mother shot him a look of warning. "I'll just…go see him then" Mycroft said a little nervously after that and then hurried from the room.

When he reached Sherlock's door, Mycroft firstly noted the 'Keep Out' sign which had not been there before and few more scratches around the frame. The elder brother knocked and was only met with a mumbled 'go away'. Mycroft tried the door anyway but unsurprisingly it was locked.

Mycroft sighed. "Not after I came all this way to see you" he replied.

There was a pause for a moment before Sherlock shouted out "Can't you read!? I don't want you in here!"

"I heard you were suspended because of an experiment" Mycroft replied calmly, knowing the only way to get Sherlock to commentate was to address him like an adult and not a child. "I would very much like to hear about it."

"No, because you'll just lecture me too!" Sherlock argued.

"Sherlock, I am the last person on this earth who can judge you for being who you are." Mycroft pointed out "You're partly this way because of me anyway and I honestly want to help you." There was another pause, and Mycroft knew that meant his brother was thinking. "I know what it's like to sit in a class day after day, doing work beneath you, and learning from teachers stupider than you. I know what it's like to be singled out as odd even by members as staff. So although you may not like it, we are not so different, you and I."

Another too long of a pause before the sound of shuffling feet and the door being undone. 14 year old Sherlock stood with his curls more out of place than usual and a ratted jumper and jeans which were alarmingly big on his too thin a frame. Mycroft knelt down on one knee before his brother and studied the almost empty eyes, encircled with ever telling redness.

"Why do you care?" Sherlock mumbled.

"Because I'm your brother" Mycroft replied simply, and Sherlock seemed to accept the meaning behind it.

"They think there's something wrong with me" Sherlock whispered, regressing to the upset state that any boy his age would be in after such an event. "Mr Jefferson said Mummy and Daddy should get me tested."

Mycroft frowned. "For what?" he asked.

Sherlock gave a weak shrug "He thinks I'm autistic or something. He gets really mad when I correct him, but it's only because he's embarrassed, and he gives me detentions for no reason. When I get my work done quickly because it's so easy he accuses me of not doing it properly." The boy sniffed and rubbed his eye, determined not to have an outburst in front of his brother.

Mycroft found himself placing a comforting hand on Sherlock's shoulder; it was very rarely they made contact, and Mycroft was surprised yet glad his brother did not pull away and that he too did not feel very uneasy about the situation.

"Well, Mr Jefferson does not know you like Mummy and Father do, like_ I_ do" Mycroft stressed. "Your mind is a gift, Sherlock, and you shouldn't be made to feel ashamed for using it. Every teacher should encourage a child with talent, and clearly Mr Jefferson is just an idiot" he added lightly and Sherlock giggled.

"I hate school so much" Sherlock said, turning serious again. "Why does he have to make me feel like I'm so…freaky?"

Mycroft tensed at the word "You are never to think that of yourself, do you understand?" he said firmly and Sherlock's eyes widened as he frantically nodded. Mycroft closed his own eyes for a moment to calm himself before saying. "Perhaps I shall go and talk to Mr Jefferson myself tomorrow…"

"But I'm not at school" Sherlock pointed out "How will you find him?"

Mycroft's lips curled up into a dangerous smirk "I have my ways."

* * *

Mycroft tapped the handle of his umbrella on the door of the flat in East London. A portly man with thinning grey hair opened it. He grunted at the sight of Mycroft.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"I wish to speak to you about one of your students, Sherlock Holmes" Mycroft said politely. Though he already had a distinct disliking for the man, manners where everything if he wanted to remain in charge.

Jefferson looked Mycroft up and down "You're not the boys' father" he said.

Mycroft bit back a sigh – Sherlock was right, the man did like the obvious. "No clearly, you've met our father. I'm his brother, Mycroft" he raised his hand for the man to shake.

Jefferson ignored the offer and merely grunted again. "Listen, boy, I don't think you'll really understand…"

Mycroft stuck his hand up then to silence the man, and Jefferson did so if not just out of plain shock. "Firstly, I am twenty one years old, so don't call me boy" Mycroft said with a dangerous smile "And secondly, what I understand is that you prey on my brother because you know he's bright, almost too bright for your liking and he makes you feel humiliated. Of course he doesn't do it maliciously but that's how you take it because you just enjoy taking out the frustration you feel in the rest of your life out on your students"

Jefferson looked gobsmacked. He jaw hung open and moved for a few moments but no words came out. "I don't have to take this!" he finally exclaimed and went to shut the door, but Mycroft placed his palm on it.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" the elder Holmes said darkly, so much so that Jefferson stopped trying to block Mycroft out. "Who do you think you are to tell my brother that he is not normal?" Mycroft asked a little aggressively, his earlier thoughts about politeness almost forgotten as the need to protect his little brother began to take over like it usually did. "It is your job to encourage every child!"

"But there's something not right in that boy's head!" Jefferson blurted out before he could stop himself, and Mycroft only appeared to grow sterner.

The Holmes' eyes narrowed. "He's fourteen years old. How dare you just dismiss him like that" Mycroft said lowly.

"He's a menace! He should be discouraged for being so arrogant" Jefferson argued. _Sherlock is right_ Mycroft thought; _this man really does not know when to shut up. _"He's disruptive when I'm trying to teach…"

"Because you're wrong" Mycroft but in.

Jefferson looked extremely offended "I beg your pardon?!" he spluttered.

"Sherlock corrects you because you get things wrong" Mycroft stated simply. "My brother has a mind far beyond his years and he knows it. Yes, admittedly he does use it to show off sometimes – I warn him against that explicitly - but when it is necessary to correct someone who is supposed to be teaching students in order to aid their future, then I think it is clear that you are the one in the wrong, and you _know_ you are wrong, that's why it bothers you too much"

The man in the door narrowed his eyes then in a calculating way. "You're just like Sherlock, aren't you?" he said. "You're not right too." To his surprise Mycroft just simpered.

"Well, has it ever occurred to you that to me and my brother, _you_ are the one who is…_not right_. We really can't understand how people like you can be so slow"

"How dare you come to my home and insult me like this!" Jefferson bellowed, but Mycroft did not seem fazed at all.

"I don't want my brother to ever think that what he has is a curse when I know he can use it for good" Mycroft said firmly "so I will be discussing the matter with my parents and making sure Sherlock is somewhere he praised and his talents are nurtured. And if things do not improve in your classroom, I will make sure you never teach in this city again"

Jefferson scoffed "Oh yeah, and how exactly do you intend to do that?"

"I have a job offer working for the British government" Mycroft replied "And I'm very, _very_ persuasive" he smiled at the speechless man. "Good day, Mr Jefferson" and with that, the elder Holmes brother walked away, umbrella swinging in his hand.

* * *

When Mycroft returned home Sherlock almost jumped on him as he had been waiting at the foot of the stairs.

"What happened? What did you say to him?" the younger Holmes asked, though he sounded more excited than anxious.

"Patience, little brother" Mycroft said as he put his umbrella down and hung up his coat.

"You didn't get me expelled did you?" Sherlock asked.

"No, but then would you mind so much if I had?" Mycroft countered.

Sherlock shrugged "No, I suppose not"

"The man really is incompetent" Mycroft said "And I hate dealing with people like him, so I understand your resentment. I was wondering if you would like for me to ask Mummy and Daddy to consider a private school for you? Somewhere that will embrace your abilities"

"Really?" Sherlock said, his eyes immediately brightening "You would do that for me?"

"Of course" Mycroft said "I only have your best interests at heart, Sherlock, and I always will"

Sherlock stepped forward hastily like he was about to hug his brother, but then he stopped, took a step back, and buried his hands in his pockets.

"Well erm, thanks, I guess" he mumbled as he looked down at his feet he was scuffing along the floor.

Mycroft smiled all the same. "You're welcome"


	4. Against The Doctor

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! Sorry updates are slow on this story, but I've been revising for exams which start next week :S Thank you so, so much for your wonderful feedback on the stories so far, they make me very happy :) I hope you like this chapter just as much, and I again apologise for any problems with characterisation. **

**Warning: Topic of drugs **

**P.S. I've had a couple of suggestions but I'm still looking for ideas about the last story for this collection (Sherlock standing up for Mycroft) please PM or review with any ideas! :)**

**Feedback is much loved :) xx**

* * *

**Against The Doctor**

Mycroft Holmes was running. He would never call it that of course; he would refer to it as a brisk walk, a purposeful stride, but really it was more than that because he had to get to his destination fast before the whole world fell apart. He took a moment to consider that that might be a tad melodramatic, but his younger brother did oh so love a melodrama.

It had been the early hours of the morning when Mycroft was roused from his rare few hours of sleep to the sound of his shrilling telephone._ Important_ he thought _for them to ring at this hour, but not work related or else they would have called my mobile. _Since there was only one other real aspect to Mycroft's life at the time which the call could be in regards to, he immediately got up to answer it. _Sherlock._

"What has he done now?" Mycroft asked dully and with only a little demand; there was no need for concern just yet.

"_Are you Mycroft Holmes?"_ the person on the other end of the line asked instead of giving a response.

Mycroft rolled his eyes impatiently "Yes"

"_Your brother William has just been admitted into St Bartholomew's hospital, we suspect he has suffered from a drug overdose. He's unconscious but we think we've managed to pump the drugs out of his system."_

For the first in a long time Mycroft felt his blood run cold and a sudden tremor ran down his hand so he nearly dropped the phone. His little brother was in hospital. He had dreaded the day but supposed it had been inevitable really.

"_Sir?"_ The person on the phone reminded Mycroft he needed his wits about him now.

"I'm on my way" Mycroft said stiffly before hanging up.

With that, he had swiftly changed his clothes and headed out into the cold night to find a cab.

And that was what had ultimately led him to be running down the hospital halls until he found the nurses station.

"I'm looking for…" Mycroft gulped, embarrassed about how breathless he sounded "Sherlock Holmes" he finally said, back in control.

"Ah yes, this way" One of the nurses said and then led Mycroft to his brother's room.

Mycroft did not know what to expect when he saw Sherlock, although the last few times he had seen his younger brother he had not looked well. Sherlock was in his last year at university and quite clearly had not been enjoying the whole experience; he stuck it out from little else to do.

Mycroft knew Sherlock had been having issues with certain legal drugs and cigarettes since he was about 16, and although Mycroft greatly disapproved of his brother's methods of finding an escape, he could not greatly condemn him either. Mycroft himself was living in a world of Goldfish and so understood the boredom and entrapment in his own mind that Sherlock also felt, but on the other hand if Mycroft could cope without drugs then his brother should be able to as well.

Just as Mycroft suspected when they finally got to Sherlock's bed, the younger Holmes looked almost translucent and too skinny to be healthy. His untameable curls were matted over his sweating forehead, but the worst thing for Mycroft was seeing the undoubtable scarring of track marks running threw his little brother's veins in his right arm. Mycroft had to greatly suppress the urge to shudder at the thought.

"Ah, Mr Holmes" someone addressed him.

Mycroft's eyes widened in surprise as he acknowledged for the first time that Sherlock's doctor was also in the room.

_Honestly one little overdose and you become _that_ unobservant _Sherlock's voice reprimanded him. _You really must be worried, how…sentimental of you. _

"Shut up" Mycroft mumbled and did not even realise he had spoken out loud until the doctor cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, sir?" he said cautiously.

"Yes, sorry" Mycroft shook his head "What exactly has my brother been doing to himself?" For the first in a long time, Mycroft was not entirely sure that he wanted the answer.

"Well it seems that William…"

"Sherlock" Mycroft immediately interrupted "he likes to be called Sherlock and I'm afraid you and your staff are no exception to that" he insisted.

"Yes, right" the doctor said with a slight frown, not sure what to make of the man before him. "_Sherlock _has suffered from a cocaine overdose, his roommate came home from university and called 999, your brother was unconscious when the ambulance arrived, close to choking on his own vomit by the looks of it."

Mycroft sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before looking over at the bed but not at his brother; he could not face it, not yet. "Oh Sherlock" he breathed.

"Anyway…" the doctor started up again "we had to immediately pump the drugs out of Sherlock's system so he's still recovering from that, he should wake up anytime now. However, I can't be too sure about lasting damage because judging by the track marks he is a frequent user. From now on he might be prone to tremors, nausea, headaches, and he is most certainly underweight"

_Well, one of us should be _Sherlock's teasing voice appeared in Mycroft's head once more.

"Shut up" Mycroft growled.

Clearly these apparitions of his brother's voice where part of a deep desire for Mycroft to see his brother up and well again, even if it meant taunting him. Mycroft had always been prone to telling the constantly jabbering boy Sherlock had been to be quiet when they were children, but now he was almost_ pleading_ for Sherlock to speak.

"Will he need any further medical help once he is released?" Mycroft inquired, ignoring the doctor's now slightly irritated look.

"No, I'm afraid with drug addict patients it's up to them to do most of the work. I would recommend putting Sherlock into a rehab centre and making sure he has a healthy diet"

"He won't go to a rehab centre" Mycroft mumbled as he looked over at his stubborn brother once more.

"They usually won't" the doctor replied.

"They?" Mycroft asked with a peaked eyebrow and a frown.

"People like your brother" the doctor said with a shrug.

"_People like my brother_" Mycroft repeated with a sense of outrage. "What exactly are you implying by that?" he asked maybe a little more heatedly than he should have "because to me it sounds like you're placing my brother in the box labelled _scum of the earth_"

Much to Mycroft's surprise the doctor did not deny this, he simply sighed and held Sherlock's chart to his chest, his arms folded in a guarded manner.

"With all due respect, Mr Holmes, I have to deal with drug users like your brother on a daily basis, and they don't want to be helped. So I hope that you can understand why it bothers me so much that people who _want_ to be helped and who_ need_ help are being turned away or taking longer to be seen by me because people like your brother are taking up my time"

The look on Mycroft's face was extremely scandalized. There was a deathly silence as he processed his next move and doctor shuffled his feet nervously; he seemed to know he had crossed a line.

"I appreciate that what my brother is doing is wrong and by no means whatsoever do I condone it" Mycroft spoke calmly but lowly "but my brother is not a bad person, I know that and I will always believe it no matter what he does because he always has reason. Of course, drug use is a vile habit, a stupid slip up, but you don't understand how low he must be feeling in order to stoop to this level"

Mycroft took a step towards the doctor, not in threat but simply to convey the seriousness of the next part of his message; the doctor took a step back in caution anyway.

"Sherlock has been through a lot in his short life, suffered for twenty one years because he is different and people are cruel" Mycroft explained "but he has always persevered up until now. And it is possibly my fault for me making him the way he is, and It's probably my fault too he thought drugs were the only option and that he couldn't come to me for help. So please do not even _imply _that Sherlock is doing this for the hell of it, he is not solely to blame and he is_ not_ a corrupt man"

With that, Mycroft moved to sit in the chair by his brother's bedside and looked up at the doctor expectantly. The man was speechless for a moment, before coughing and returning back to his original professional tone.

"I understand that, sir, but there's nothing more that I can do for him. Sherlock will be discharged tonight…"

"Tonight?" Mycroft practically exclaimed "But he's not even conscious!" had to supress a smile.

"He will be in an hour or so. If you really wish I can also prescribe some anti-nausea pills for the withdrawal period, although I wouldn't recommend giving him more drugs…"

"No, leave them" Mycroft said with a dismissive wave of his hand "but if I find out that you have not been giving my brother full treatment because of the reasons you previously stated you will face the consequences"

The doctor bristled a little and straightened his posture "I assure you sir that I am a professional and I will treat my patients to the best of my ability no matter what"

"Good" Mycroft said with an obviously faked grin "and I appreciate you helping my brother in these circumstances. Now, if you would be so kind as to leave us"

The doctor gave one sharp nod before rather speedily leaving the room. Mycroft let out a huff of air as he sat back in the chair and crossed his legs one over the other, hands folded in his lap and attention now clearly on Sherlock.

"There, I admitted it's partly my fault, are you happy now?" Mycroft asked his brother's still form.

"It will do for now" Sherlock replied as he opened his eyes "how long did it take you to realise I was awake?"

"As soon I stepped in the room" Mycroft said "ever since you were a baby you've slept facing the right, but now you're facing the left"

"It's weird that you know you that, you've been watching me sleep" Sherlock said and Mycroft just smirked at him.

"Perhaps, but still it's not the weirdest thing I know about you" he teased and Sherlock's eyes momentarily widened.

"Well, the fact you kept telling me to shut up even though you knew I was awake and not saying anything clearly indicates I got to you anyway" Sherlock said almost smugly.

"Why do you keep doing this, Sherlock?" Mycroft finally asked in all seriousness, ignoring his brother's attempt to try and make him admit to worry.

Sherlock sighed "Like you said, I find it hard to cope sometimes. All my life you're the only person I've felt has well…_ tolerated_ me, and you would help me if I needed it. I didn't feel you would this time though"

There was a sudden pang of unwanted guilt in Sherlock's stomach when he identified the flash of sadness which crossed Mycroft's eyes when he said that. It was so unlike the both of them to be so…_expressive._ It might have actually seemed quite inexpressive to most people given the context, but not to the Holmes brothers.

"Sherlock, I understand that I haven't been there a lot for you over the past few years because I've been focusing on my career, but that doesn't mean I ever forgot you" Mycroft explained.

"Well of course, how could you ever forget _me?_" Sherlock frowned and Mycroft smiled for the slightest moment.

"I mean I should have called and visited more often, but you could have done the same" the older brother pointed out.

Sherlock sighed once more like a scolded child "I know, I mean it's not…_entirely_ your fault…probably more so mine in fact"

"Why thank you" Mycroft said sarcastically, but realised that was probably going to be as close to a confession of responsibility as he was ever going to get from Sherlock. "But, if you need help then just ask me"

"I did, sort of" Sherlock mumbled "You're my emergency contact, Mycroft, the hospital called you first. If that doesn't say I need you more than anyone then…" he trailed off, realising he was being far too sentimental about the whole situation. "I'm tired" he mumbled again as an excuse.

"I'm sure" Mycroft said, deciding to not make his brother feel embarrassed; just this once though. "You'll be coming to stay with me for a few days of course"

"What? Mycroft" Sherlock groaned, stretching out his brother's name "I don't need you to baby sit me!"

"No arguments or do you actually want to go to a rehabilitation centre?" Mycroft threatened.

"No!" the younger Holmes exclaimed.

"I thought as much" Mycroft smirked. "You're going to get clean Sherlock; I trust you won't let me down after everything I've said today"

"I'll try" Sherlock muttered.

Mycroft sighed "That's all I ask" he replied "For now…"


	5. Against The Police

**A/N: hello my darlings! Thank you so much for the feedback on this story so far :) This is the last chapter for Mycroft standing up for Sherlock and it also kind of sets up the next chapter when Sherlock will stand up for Mycroft. Thank you for the suggestions so far regarding that story, if you have any more they are appreciated! I know you're probably bored of me saying this but I really do think there is some OOCness here so apologises XD I hope you enjoy! **

**Please leave a review if you can spare a moment :) xxx**

* * *

**Against the Police**

Mycroft was annoyingly familiar with the notion of someone calling him in the middle of the night to discuss his little brother. Usually it was the hospital telling him Sherlock had been found in some godforsaken alley nowhere near where he lived, high as a kite and near death. Mycroft had found that there was no point in worrying himself anymore; him having sleepless nights was not going to stop Sherlock being stubborn and so now Mycroft decided to take a more Indifferent approach.

However, that particular evening when the phone rang to wake Mycroft from his much needed slumber he was surprised to not be greeted with the steady professional tone of a nurse, but the erratic and somewhat slurred one of his little brother.

"Um...hello?" Sherlock said uncertainly as if he had never used a phone before.

"What is it, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked with as little interest as possible; it was clear merely from the sound of Sherlock's voice that he was on some kind of toxic binge again.

"I erm..." He sighed and Mycroft could almost see the indignant eye roll which went with it; Sherlock obviously did not want to say whatever he was about to. "I've been arrested"

Mycroft, unfortunately, could not say he was surprised and so he replied with a simple "Oh"

"Can you...I mean would you..." Sherlock stumbled over his words; partly because of the drugs, but Mycroft also assumed partly because he was embarrassed and annoyed about having to ask for his big brother's help.

"You want me to bail you out?" Mycroft finished for him as he tiredly massaged his eyes. "And why should I do that?" He asked more to wind Sherlock up than anything else.

"Because I'm your brother!" Sherlock exclaimed and then realised he was probably being far too desperate and so then took a much quieter tone before adding "these officers are idiots, I can't stand being around idiots!"

"Well then maybe you shouldn't have got caught" Mycroft berated his brother "or better yet, not taken the drugs in the first place! I honestly don't know if I can defend you about this anymore, Sherlock"

And there must have been some sort of weariness and hurt in his voice which Mycroft had not meant to convey, because Sherlock replied almost guiltily "this one last time, I promise"

Mycroft sighed; he knew he was going to regret this. "Alright, I'll get there when I get there" he said as one last jibe despite the fact he was already changed and heading out the door.

* * *

Mycroft entered the police station to the sound of raised voices coming from the holding cells. The elder Holmes rolled his eyes with distain as he recognised one of the voices belonged to Sherlock - so much for not being a humiliation any more. Mycroft went to wait patiently at the desk anyway and resisted the urge just leave.

"Hello, sir" an officer finally appeared looking rather annoyed and flustered; Sherlock seemed to have that effect on a lot of people. "How can I help you?" He enquired after straightening his tie.

"I'm here to pay parole for Sherlock Holmes" Mycroft said as he dug around his inside pocket for his wallet.

"I'm sorry but we've decided to revoke Mr Holmes' bail for now, he's given us a lot of trouble" the officer said as he glanced back to where the noise had finally gone down.

"I have had to put up with that sort of trouble all my life, Mr Lestrade" Mycroft spotted the officers name on his ID badge.

"He's always this much of a pain?" Lestrade said somewhat amusedly.

"Unfortunately, yes" Mycroft said "even when he is not on some chemical high, which is what I assume you brought him in for?"

"Yeah I found him stumbling around the front of a restaurant yelling at this couple; apparently she was having an affair"

"Yes, well, the length of her dress and the colour lipstick she was wearing would tell you that" Mycroft said absentmindedly as he looked around the station, missing Lestrade's bemused frown.

"Okay um... Well I'm afraid at this moment in time I don't feel obliged to let Sherlock go" Lestrade said and Mycroft raised an eyebrow; though the people Mycroft worked with knew this was a dangerous gesture, the police officer seemed completely unfazed. "In fact, judging by the track marks on his arms he is a frequent user and I probably should take him to court or suggest a further investigation to make sure he isn't dealing too"

Mycroft smirked "Detective, my brother is many things, but a drug dealer he is not. Yes, i agree he should be punished for his misconduct, but I assure you, this is not the way. Sherlock will continue to be a hassle and I need to be there when withdrawal kicks in because... And please do not tell him this... Although I hate what he does to himself I cannot stand to see him suffer. Call it the natural instinct of a big brother, I suppose"

"We won't let him suffer, Mr Holmes" Lestrade replied gently "I'm sure your brother is a good kid but..."

"Although he might act like a child most of the time, he is most certainly not one" Mycroft interrupted "in fact, he is probably the most intelligent man you will ever meet, aside from me of course"

"Ah...right" Lestrade folded his arms across his chest and studied the man in front of him pensively.

On first appearance the older Holmes brother seemed to look like any other posh git Lestrade had come across with his three piece suit and air of arrogance. However, the more Lestrade studied the man the more did he see a worried older brother in denial of his own feelings and the true extent of his younger brother's actions.

"You look tired" Lestrade commented somewhat off-handed, but also hoping to evoke some kind of response.

Mycroft looked down at his umbrella which he was twisting into the ground. There was a moment of silence before the elder Holmes replied "I worry about him." another pause "Constantly."

Lestrade felt sort of bad for the clearly exhausted man as he twitched his lips thoughtfully; he was torn between his duty as an officer and his understanding as an elder brother himself. Eventually, he sighed.

"Look, Mr Holmes, I empathise with you, okay, I really do. My younger twin sisters have not exactly been role models of society, but... Your brother has acted unjustly and it wouldn't be right to..."

"Then don't punish him" Mycroft interrupted, but there was something almost pleading in his eyes "let him do something more productive and that could benefit you both"

"Like what?" Lestrade asked.

"Like I said, my brother is very smart. He can walk into a room and tell you the history of any object in there, he can glance at a stranger for mere seconds and tell you who they're dating and what they drive. You must have some cold cases he could help you solve? Anything? Without pay of course, and it would be a good distraction from the drugs"

Although Lestrade did not doubt that to be true concerning Sherlock's deduction skills -Sherlock had already worked out he was unhappily married much to the detective's annoyance- he was still dubious.

"I don't know, I'd be breaking the rules if I let an amateur in on that kind of thing"

"Well it's a good job he's not an amateur" Mycroft said confidently "but again, don't tell him I said that" Lestrade smirked at this, and then Mycroft added "Please?"

Again, Lestrade smiled lightly. "You're not use to saying please, are you?"

Mycroft looked towards the holding cells where there was now silence. "Only for him" he said quietly.

"I'm really going to regret this, aren't I?" Lestrade sighed.

"I'm not saying anything" Mycroft replied.

"Fine, your brother can go" Lestrade resigned.

"Thank you" Mycroft said, seeming very relieved.

"Not use to that either" Lestrade quipped as he led Mycroft to his younger brother.

When they reached the cell there was a haughty looking officer standing guard who had clearly become victim to Sherlock's skills of deduction. Sherlock himself lay on the concrete bed of the cell, facing away from the door, body trembling lightly.

"The withdrawal is already kicking in" Mycroft said and Lestrade almost detected the pain in his voice; the man clearly cared but was not prone to saying it aloud.

"You're free to go, Mr Holmes" Lestrade announced as he entered the cell with Mycroft. "But there are some conditions"

Sherlock rolled over to face them. "I reject them all" he mumbled.

"Sherlock..." Mycroft said with a tone of warning "Detective Lestrade has kindly offered to let you go on the basis that you will help him with some more difficult cases"

Sherlock sniffed. "I don't work with Idiots"

"Why you little..." The officer outside the cell started angrily as he moved towards them.

"No!" Mycroft snapped "stay away from him! "The elder Holmes was not at all sure where that sudden bout of protectiveness came from but he needed to let his angst at the situation out somehow.

"Sherlock..." Lestrade stepped in to defuse the situation. "Your brother had to really persuade me to do this and he's just worried about you" there was no comment from either Holmes "plus, I suppose I could really use someone with your brains" he added a little reluctantly. "My division is actually homicide so you'll see some...interesting stuff"

Sherlock lifted his head at this. "You want me to consult on gory murder cases?"

"Er...sure, we can call it that" Lestrade said uncertainly. "But if anything like this happens again you get put back in here, you understand?"

"Alright" Sherlock said as he sat up, and then stood "but they better be _interesting" _

"Sure" Lestrade replied.

"Okay, let's go, Mycroft" Sherlock said and strode out of the cell, passing the glaring eyes of the other officer.

"He means thank you" Mycroft said to Lestrade.

The detective gave a lopsided smile "it's okay"

Mycroft and Lestrade shared a handshake that possibly only long suffering older brothers would understand before Mycroft followed Sherlock out of the building.

* * *

"Never again, Sherlock, never again, I swear to God!" Mycroft exclaimed angrily as soon as they were outside "this is the last time I come and rescue you from your own stupidity!"

"You did not _rescue_ me, don't be so dramatic" Sherlock snapped back "and as for not looking out for me anymore, we both know that's not true. You _enjoy _it, even though it annoys the hell out of me"

"Do you think I _enjoy _seeing you like this?" Mycroft retorted "I use to think it was my fault you know, well not anymore, if you cannot even help yourself Sherlock then how can I?"

"So you're just giving up?" Sherlock said as he folded his arms firmly across his chest.

"Well you gave up a long time ago" Mycroft said coldly as they reached the car. "Get in" he ordered.

Sherlock paused and frowned. "You can drive?" He asked apprehensively and Mycroft just looked back in disbelief "I thought you'd always had people drive you everywhere"

"Yes Sherlock, I can drive and I have been able to since I was seventeen" Mycroft affirmed with great annoyance before getting into the driver's seat, Sherlock following into the passenger's a moment later.

"Why are you being so emotional?" Sherlock asked as he looked absentmindedly out the window as Mycroft drove them away.

The elder Holmes sighed "because for once in my life I feel like I don't know what to do, and I hate that"

"I'm not your responsibility" Sherlock said bluntly as he turned to his brother "why do you always fight for me if it despairs you so much?"

"Because I'm your big brother, Sherlock" was the simple reply; to Mycroft that was a good enough explanation, but apparently not for Sherlock. "And maybe I'd like to think you'd do the same for me if I ever needed you" the elder Holmes added.

Sherlock frowned with confusion "why would you need me?"

Mycroft sighed again and that was when Sherlock realised his brother really was giving up "I don't know, Sherlock, but you didn't even know I could drive. That shows how much you regard me and my life"

"I _regard _you plenty" Sherlock responded " I greatly regard the fact you like to interfere with _my _life"

"What's my job?" Mycroft asked out of the blue.

"What?" Sherlock frowned slightly taken aback.

"What's my job?" Mycroft repeated.

"I... Well you're a...you... I mean it obviously pays well" Sherlock stuttered but then had to close his eyes and search his mind palace. "I don't know you've never told me" he huffed.

"I have"

"Haven't"

"You deleted it because it's not important to you" Mycroft stated; _I'm not important to you._

"Perhaps" Sherlock conceded "but just because I don't know what you do for a living doesn't mean that if you were in trouble I wouldn't..." He slumped back in his seat sulkily "you know" he mumbled.

"Do I?" Mycroft asked amusedly.

"Don't push it, Mycroft" Sherlock warned and the elder Holmes just smirked to himself in triumph.

"You're staying with me tonight" Mycroft said as an order than a suggestion "I suspect the withdrawal is about to get rough" he noted as Sherlock's shaking intensified.

"Yes, I think so" Sherlock replied as he closed his eyes momentarily before looking out the window again. "Thank you" he said, and although it lacked his usual snide edge but there was a hint of embarrassment there.

"The last time" Mycroft said again.

"Yes, yes" Sherlock said frivolously to clearly indicate he did not believe his brother. There were a few minutes of silence before Sherlock spoke up again. "Mycroft?"

"Yes"

"What _do _you do for a living?"

Mycroft smiled to himself "I think I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions on that one


	6. Against The Other One

**A/N: hello lovelies! So sorry about the delay but I've just had my exams at school which unfortunately had to take priority. Anyway, here is the last chapter with protective! Sherlock (love it!) I have been quite interested by the concept of 'the other one' and who better to make Mycroft doubt himself than a mean big brother. I hope you have enjoyed these stories, and I apologise deeply for OOCness in the chapter. I hope you like it!**

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**Against 'The Other One'**

His long slender fingers tapped rhythmically and hurriedly across the keys of John's laptop as he tried to track the source of the impossible broadcast. Since Moriarty's face had appeared on every screen in London just 2 hours ago, Sherlock had already become relentless in his mission. John had gone home to make sure Mary and the baby were safe but promised to return soon.

For once Sherlock felt almost unable to comprehend the situation. Yes, he had avoided his own death through extravagant means, but surely shooting yourself in the head was a little more difficult to fake. However, Sherlock supposed he should no longer be surprised about the destruction James Moriarty was capable of and he just had to focus on finally bringing the spider to rest.

Sherlock did not look up from his computer screen when he heard John's footsteps behind him signalling the doctor's return.

"Your wife is trained in marksmanship you know, I'm sure she and the baby will be fine" Sherlock said, not one to often offer words of comfort but John was always the exception.

The footsteps stopped right behind Sherlock and John did not reply, and that's when Sherlock realised, _because it's not John. _He was so caught up in his work that he initially missed the fact these steps were far too well placed to be that of his bloggers - _and you think _I'm_ slipping _he heard Mycroft say in his head.

Sherlock whipped around intending to wind the man with a sharp dig at his lungs, but the man was too fast as he clasped a leather gloved hand over Sherlock's head and wrapped his arm around his throat.

"Hush, hush little brother" a voice just above a whisper said as Sherlock desperately tried to claw his way free.

He stopped at that last comment; _little brother? _The man above him was not Mycroft, though he does have an air of the elder Holmes, similar features, and similar suit. And again, Sherlock realised almost too late, he had not seen this man since he was 5 years old, barely remembered a thing about him.

_Sherrinford_.

"Now, let's get Myc down here, shall we? Have a little family reunion" Sherrinford smirked as he took Sherlock's phone from his jacket pocket and typed out a text. "What do you think?" He said as he showed the message to Sherlock which simply read:

_I need you_.

Sherlock knew that was all it would take. Mycroft would call for a car immediately and come down to Baker Street no matter what he was doing, and then he too would become caught up in their estranged brother's plan, but Sherlock knew Mycroft was in much more danger of Sherrinford than he was. For once it was his turn to protect Mycroft.

So Sherlock continued to struggle, for Mycroft's sake because no matter what he said about his brother or even to Mycroft, he was not willing to see him suffer in the hands of the true elder Holmes brother.

"And now we wait" Sherrinford said as he sent the message "Mycroft and I have some scores to settle, but it just wouldn't be right without you, little brother"

He finally relinquished his grip on Sherlock and the detective fell forward off the chair, his cheek pushing against the floor as he breathed heavily.

"If...you...hurt...him..." Sherlock gasped as he struggled to pick himself up, but found the world was already going black.

"Oh come now, have faith in me, little brother" Sherrinford said in his own slimly way. "Now, you sleep for a while" he said, and although he did not want to comply Sherlock found himself being sucked into the black abyss.

* * *

Mycroft was walking up the stairs to 221B just 20 minutes after he received the text. In a strange way he was somewhat relieved about Moriarty's supposed return because it meant Sherlock could stay and not be sent on a mission were his death. However, Mycroft was not a stupid man.

"Sherlock has never said he needs me in all his life" Mycroft spoke as he approached the door of the flat "So I can only assume..."

And for once he was stumped at the sight before him. Sherlock was sat on the sofa with his hands tied behind his back, looking a little pale and shell-shocked but no apparent injury, and their elder brother, Sherrinford, stood pointing a gun at Sherlock like he was any common victim and not their little brother at all.

"What are you...?" Mycroft stumbled, but he was almost too shocked to talk. Sherrinford and Sherlock had not been in contact for almost 30 years, with good reason, and this is how they met again?

"Hello, Myc" Sherrinford said with mock cheer, and Mycroft flinched at the use of the name, which does not go unnoticed by Sherlock. "Did you like my little Moriarty trick? Turns out you're not the only smart one after all"

"It was mediocre at best" Sherlock scoffed.

"Ah, ah" Sherrinford warned when Mycroft tried to take a step toward Sherlock and the eldest Holmes took the safety off the gun. "I was worried when you stopped visiting me in the institute"

"I had nothing else to say" Mycroft spoke calmly but his eyes were anything but, wide and in-comprehensible.

"Well if it's your fault I'm in there in the first place you could at least have the decency"

"It was your own fault" Sherlock spoke up, much more put together than Mycroft "I know I was only young when they put you away but I remember things, and our parents have ensured I know everything you were, everything you are. Mycroft was not the cause of you being put in that place for lunatics; it was you and your own psychopathic needs"

"Maybe if the brat had just behaved I wouldn't have had to hurt him so!" Sherrinford yelled as he glared with venom at Mycroft who all of a sudden seemed pale.

"You'd hurt me, Sherrinford" Mycroft finally spoke "you'd hurt me without reason, and if mother and father hadn't sent you away you'd have started doing it to Sherlock too"

"Everything was fine, just me mother and father, until you came along." Sherrinford said as he continued to stare Mycroft down "then it was all precious little Mycroft and his amazing mind, Mycroft can already speak Greek and he's nine what are you doing with _your _life Sherrinford?!"

"You're pathetic" Sherlock snapped "you can't punish Mycroft because he's _better _than you. You're still a petty, jealous child who wants to be centre of attention"

Sherrinford laughed then, hysterically, manically. Sherlock and Mycroft shared a look. It was obvious the middle brother was finding it hard to cope, but Sherlock for once understood that. Sherrinford had been Mycroft's tormenter as a child, and Sherlock had never really been able to suppress the sound of Mycroft crying after Sherrinford had beat him once more just for the hell of it.

"_I'm _the petty jealous one?" Sherrinford finally said to Sherlock "you were always the apple of mother and father's eye since you were born. It bothered Myc too, I know it did, he just never had the courage to do anything about it, and I would have if he hadn't stopped me"

"It's nothing to do with courage!" Sherlock retorted. "I know that Mycroft would never raise a hand to me no matter how annoying I've been because he can control himself, he actually cares and I take that for granted" he looked over to Mycroft then who seemed torn between smiling and the need to be sick "although sometimes it can be a bit much" Sherlock added, because it would be so unlike him to pay complement without some distain.

"You're a brat" Sherrinford seethed as he stepped closer to Sherlock with the gun; the detective didn't even flinch "always have been, always will be"

"Sherrinford, please" Mycroft finally spoke up "you're not well, they shouldn't have let you out..."

He sounded so unlike his usual smug and confident self that it actually worried Sherlock a little. He supposed that every time Mycroft saw Sherrinford he was reverted to that scared little boy whose brother treated him like the scum of the earth.

Sherlock knew since Sherrinford had been in hospital for the mentally unstable and that Mycroft had visited him, whether it was in the hope having some questions answered or maybe even guilt (Sherlock didn't think Mycroft had anything to be sorry for regarding this particular situation) he was not sure. Sherlock himself had never visited. He had not seen Sherrinford since he was 5 years old and would never forgive his oldest brother for the way he treated Mycroft.

"I'm not a prisoner!" Sherrinford yelled.

"You should be" Sherlock mumbled.

"Sherlock..." Mycroft said with warning. The youngest Holmes didn't know Sherrinford like he did, didn't know just how dangerous and volatile the eldest brother could be.

"I have had enough!" Sherrinford yelled as he turned the gun around on Mycroft now.

"So have I" another voice suddenly spoke, and that was when John stepped in from the kitchen after sneaking in the side door. He was wielding a gun of his own which he had firmly trained on Sherrinford. "The police are already on their way"

"No, I'm not done; I'm not done with you, Mycroft! You betrayed me, you're own brother, you betrayed me!" Sherrinford roared.

"He did no such thing, you brought this on yourself!" Sherlock asserted "as for being done, we're the ones who are done with you"

With that, Sherlock revealed he had managed to escape the binds on his hands, lunging forward he managed to elbow Sherrinford in the chest. Winded, the eldest Holmes dropped the gun and it scattered across the floor. Mycroft watched with wide eyes as Sherlock managed to get around Sherrinford and grab the fallen gun, John stepped forward to intervene if he had to.

"Now you just stay there" Sherlock growled as now both he and John had their firearms pointed at the eldest Holmes.

"You're making a mistake" Sherrinford said, suddenly a lot quieter in the face of defeat.

"I _really _don't think I am" Sherlock asserted. "You should have known, I'd choose Mycroft every time"

The middle Holmes still had not broken out of his stupor when he felt the police officers brushing past him to take Sherrinford away. He was humiliated by the way he was frozen, yet he could not stop the memories of hours of torment from his older brother from plaguing him.

"Mycroft?" A concerned tone broke into Mycroft's thoughts and Sherlock's stern but somewhat nervous face came into focus and he realised the police had gone with Sherrinford. John had gone to see them off.

"Sherlock I..." Mycroft stammered "I'm so sorry"

"It's alright" Sherlock spoke gently and then to Mycroft's surprise Sherlock placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No, no it's not" Mycroft shook his head "I should have... I can't believe I just..."

"_Mycroft" _Sherlock said vehemently as he gripped both of his brother's shoulders now. "I know I was only five and I don't remember a lot but... I saw the bruises and I heard things..." He looked away then and took a deep breath "I know he terrorised you and our parents wouldn't have sent him away if they didn't think it was best. Don't listen to him. As far as I am concerned _you _are the only big brother I have and... Well perhaps you haven't been that terrible"

Mycroft felt his lips twitch into a rare smile. Suddenly, his mind was not filled of fearful images of his oldest brother razing his fists, but instead of running around the garden after his youngest brother, indulging in one of his pirate games. Those were the memories that made Mycroft happy, and the happiness they had brought Sherlock too meant that maybe he wasn't an awful big brother after all. He could not let Sherrinford over cloud the good times he had had with Sherlock.

"Thank you" Mycroft said.

Sherlock smiled back and the said "don't be soft, it's unfitting of you" he clapped Mycroft's shoulder before going back to his laptop like nothing had happened.

"Anyone want to tell me what that was all about?" John said as he came back into the flat.

"Maybe later, right now, I think Mycroft needs to sit down with a nice cup of tea" Sherlock said. It was his turn to take care of Mycroft today..._just for today, mind._

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**Thank you so, so much for everyone who has followed, reviewed favourited and read this story, your support means so much to me, and thank you again to 'a genius says' for the prompt. I have had a boom in ideas for more Holmes brothers stories, but I do love getting prompts, so if you have any ideas then please let me know! **

**Please feel free to leave feedback or ideas :)**

**Love ya! Xx **


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